Following the Current: Springfield, Resonance, and the People I Was Meant to Meet
- Cayla
- Jul 1
- 6 min read
When I first planned my day in Springfield, I thought I was planning where I would go. Instead, I was being guided toward who I would meet. Looking back, the places themselves were beautiful, but the true gifts of the day were the conversations, the connections, and the quiet reminders that life has a way of arranging encounters we could never have orchestrated ourselves.
Seasons Within Seasons
The morning began surrounded by nature. I spent time exploring the Mizumoto Japanese Stroll Garden. As beautiful as the gardens were, what moved me most was realizing they were designed as a four seasons garden.
Years ago, while traveling through China, I had visited another four seasons garden during winter. The quiet stillness of snow-covered branches had left a lasting impression on me. Now, standing in a summer version of that same concept, everything felt entirely different. The same style of garden had become an entirely new experience simply because the season had changed.
It made me wonder how many places in our lives are like that. Sometimes we return to something familiar only to discover that we have changed, the season has changed, and what once meant one thing now speaks an entirely different language. I left knowing I now want to experience a four seasons garden in autumn and spring as well, witnessing how beauty transforms without ever ceasing to be itself.
When 222 Kept Calling
Later that afternoon I wandered into Mystical Thoughts. I wasn't looking for anything in particular, just wanting to stop in at the local metaphysical shop. As I browsed, I noticed a display of angel number jewelry. My eyes immediately landed on 222, a number that has followed me for years. I remember thinking that it would be nice to own something with that number on it, but the jewelry itself didn't quite resonate with me, so I smiled and continued walking. On the other side of the display sat a woman offering Human Design readings, Tiffany of TK Esthetics.
I had never heard of Human Design before. Curious, I walked over and simply asked, "What is Human Design?" As she began explaining it, something caught my eye. Her phone lit up. The screen read 2:22. I laughed. Sometimes life whispers. Sometimes it practically waves its arms in front of you.
In that moment I decided to book a reading. As we talked, she asked for my birth information. "I was actually born at 2:22," I told her.
She paused, smiled knowingly, and suddenly the timing felt even more impossible to ignore. The reading itself was fascinating, though I also realized I have a great deal more to learn. She explained that I am a Manifesting Generator, a type she shared herself. What began as a reading quickly became a conversation.
We spoke about the similarities in our lives, the way we approach the world, the tension between wanting to create while also responding to what life presents, and the strange experience of feeling like your path rarely looks like anyone else's. It felt less like meeting a stranger and more like recognizing someone.
Eventually another client arrived, reminding us how much time had passed. As we wrapped up, she handed me her phone number and encouraged me to reach out if I ever had questions. Then came another unexpected moment. I mentioned it was perfect timing because I needed to leave because I had a float session scheduled. "Where?" she asked.
When I told her the location, Theta Wellness, she laughed. "My studio is right next door, Essential Yoga Studio." Of course it was. By then I had stopped asking why these moments kept happening. I was simply grateful to notice them.
The Gift of Stillness
My first 90-minute float session became an experience of surrender. The tank was larger than I expected, giving me space to stretch out completely. The water itself was shallower than other float tanks I've experienced, so I quickly learned that stillness wasn't just helpful, it was part of the experience.
Every unnecessary movement reminded me of the bottom beneath me. Eventually I settled. The silence became spacious. The stillness became enough. For ninety minutes there was nowhere to go, nothing to accomplish, and nothing to become. Only presence.
Becoming a Bridge
After the float, I hurried to a full moon gathering hosted by Georgia at her shop Pasithea. The gathering itself was warm and intimate, just Georgia, Bree, Georgia's son, and me. There was something wonderfully nostalgic about sitting in circle again. It reminded me of the early days of my spiritual journey, when everything felt new and every gathering carried a sense of wonder.
Afterward I asked if I could browse the shop before they closed. That's when another thread revealed itself. I noticed they carried Hapé and kuripes from a facilitator whose retreats I had already been interested in attending, Matt of Medicine Dreamer. Georgia knew them personally.
Then I found exactly what I'd been searching for, a beautiful double-nostril kuripe at a wonderfully reasonable price. Nearby, she was also selling ceremonial cacao. That opened another conversation.
I found myself sharing about my dear friend, Nawi of Four Wind in Oklahoma who creates bean-to-brick ceremonial cacao with such incredible care, prayer, and intention. Truly, it is some of the finest cacao I have ever experienced. Georgia was interested. I offered to connect them.
Then another surprise emerged. The cacao she was currently carrying had come from someone I had met during the breathwork event earlier on this trip, Daniela of Soul to Soul Harmony. Another circle. Another connection. Another reminder that communities are often much smaller than they appear.
Driving away, I realized something. Sometimes our purpose isn't to be the destination. Sometimes our purpose is to become the bridge. To connect people. To introduce one heart to another. To help relationships form that otherwise never would have existed. There is something deeply sacred about that role.
Listening Instead of Leading
This trip has taught me something I don't want to forget. For much of my life, I've tried to plan every step. I've wanted certainty. Control. A clear map. But the most meaningful moments of this journey were never on the itinerary.
They happened because I stayed curious. Because I asked questions. Because I walked through open doors instead of trying to force closed ones open. Again and again, I found exactly the people I needed to meet simply by following what quietly resonated. Not chasing. Listening. And during that full moon ritual, under the buck moon, I realseased my attachment to control and planted the intention to be curious in it's place.
Echoes at Pythian Castle
The day ended with a ghost tour at Pythian Castle. I've been on several ghost tours over the years, and while I always enjoy the history, I've rarely experienced anything that felt personally significant.
This time was different. During the investigation I witnessed what I can only describe as a solid apparition and sensed a presence unlike anything I had encountered before. Whether others would interpret that experience the same way doesn't matter much to me.
It was real to me. I found myself wondering if quieter places simply offer more room to be heard. Unlike larger tourist attractions, Pythian Castle felt peaceful. Less crowded. Less interrupted. Perhaps that creates space for history, for memory, or for something beyond my understanding. Whatever the explanation, I left not frightened, but humbled.
Trusting the Current
If this journey has offered me one lesson above all others, it is this: I don't always need to know where I'm going. Sometimes I only need to notice what resonates and have the courage to follow it. Every meaningful encounter on this trip began with a simple act of curiosity.
A question asked. A conversation started. A door walked through. None of it could have been planned. And perhaps that's exactly the point. The more I stop trying to lead every step of my path, the more life gently reveals the next one. Not all at once. Just enough. Enough to keep walking. Enough to keep trusting. Enough to keep listening.
🍃 A Question for You
Just as the same garden transforms with each season, we grow and change throughout our lives. If you could revisit one place from your past today, how do you think your experience would be different? What has changed? You, the place, or perhaps both?
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